The Wild Heart
by xseikax
Summary: Life among the Dalish isn't easy, but the bonds of friend and family grow strong. Stories of Ashara's childhood. Rating may change later.
1. Chapter 1

"What's the matter, Ashara? Too short to climb up here?"

Ashara could hear the two boys snickering above her in the large tree and she gritted her teeth, determined to pull herself up to their height. By stretching her arms as far as they would go she reached up and managed to get a grip on what seemed like a sturdy branch, though she shook it a little to see how steady it was. When it didn't move she thought it should be able to support her. She grasped onto it with both hands and jumped off the limb she was standing on, trying to pull herself up. But her eight year old arms weren't strong enough to pull her entire body up and soon she was dangling in the air, only holding on by her hands. With an annoyed tut she let herself go and fell four feet to the ground. She tried to land on her feet but missed and tumbled onto her bottom. Above her, Tamlen and Fenarel collapsed into laughter.

Ashara quickly jumped up and glared at them. They were clinging to branches to keep themselves steady, and she was sure she saw tears of laughter in the corners of Fenarel's eyes. "Shut up!" she demanded, stomping her foot angrily. But it didn't do any good. If anything, they started laughing even harder.

_Jerks,_ she thought to herself. She held her hands out in front of her, directing her palms towards the two boys. See how much they laugh after she hurled a fist of stone at them. They weren't much higher than she had been, they wouldn't even break any bones from such a fall. But it sure would shut them up if they got knocked down. Ha! She grinned triumphantly and began muttering the spell.

"Ashara, what are you doing?" She jumped and lost focus as she heard the disapproving voice. It was right behind her, she twisted and whipped her hands behind her back to see Master Ilen, the Clan's craftsman, staring down at her with his arms crossed and an amused frown on his face. "You know you're not supposed to use your magic unless the Keeper allows it."

"But I wasn't hahren," Ashara said sweetly, and her violet eyes widened innocently. Most of the adults of the Clan thought she was adorable and she had learned from an early age to use that advantage at any given moment. She almost never got in trouble; the adults would pat her on the head and tell her to go back to Ashalle's aravel. Only the Keeper, and perhaps Ashalle herself, were immune to her charm. "I was just going to tell them that it was dangerous to be up so high."

Master Ilen's lips twitched, though he didn't believe her for a moment, and he looked up at Tamlen and Fenarel who were watching with wide eyes. "You two, come down here."

The boys groaned loudly, irritated that their fun had gotten interrupted but they complied, easily dropping down from the tree and landing on their feet. They straightened their tunics and came to stand next to Ashara, sure that they would be scolded. Children weren't supposed to climb trees in case they should hurt themselves. The Keeper, who was a powerful mage, could heal them easily but she had more important things to conserve her mana for. Of course, both boys were clever enough to say it was Ashara's fault. She always took the blame, and somehow managed to keep them all out of trouble. It was how they always responded when they got caught doing something they weren't supposed to do, and it worked well for all three of them.

But Master Ilen only shook his head and sighed. These three were known around Camp as the troublemakers, the ones who always needed to be watched. They were always getting into something they shouldn't, or playing childish pranks on the others. But they never hurt anyone, and even the Keeper seemed to find their antics amusing. "Shouldn't you three be back at camp? Ashara, aren't you supposed to be with the Keeper?"

Ashara shook her head. "Marethari is helping the Clan prepare to move, she said Merill and I could have the day." Whenever a Dalish child reached five summers they were sent to study with one of the hahren, to learn a skill that they would use as adults. Most often a child got to choose the path they wanted to take, but in rare cases where a child was born with magical ability they were sent to train with the Keeper, who could teach them the ancient magic of their ancestors, but most importantly how to control their gift. Ashara was one of two Dalish children born to the Clan. The other was a girl named Merill, and both girls spent most of their days studying with the Keeper. It was rare that they were given a day to themselves.

"Tasar gave us the day too," Tamlen said excitedly. "He has the hunters helping to gather food for the move and said he didn't need us." Both Tamlen and Fenarel were learning to be hunters, they had been training for four years, since their fifth summer. Most of the boys chose that path, though some of the girls chose to be hunters as well.

Master Ilen let out another sigh. "Well I doubt they meant for you to crash around in the forest and scare off everything in range. Go back to camp, and make yourselves useful. I'm sure you can find something to do."

Fenarel hopped from one foot to the other, he could never manage to sit still. "Let's race!"

Tamlen nodded eagerly, and the two of them abruptly ran off while Master Ilen merely shook his head and Ashara scurried after them. She tried to keep up but it was difficult. Tamlen and Fenarel were used to running; hahren Tasar usually had his young hunters practice to build up their endurance and get them used to chasing after prey. So while the two of them easily jumped over logs and avoided the low hanging branches, after a short distance Ashara stumbled and somehow managed to fall headlong into a large bush.

She laid on her stomach for a second, stunned, before she rolled herself over and sat up, angrily pushing her black bangs away from her face. Her long tunic was ripped, the leather belt around her waist was askew and when she lifted her knee she could see through the tear of her leggings the scrape there. Blood was trickling down her leg and tears suddenly pricked at the corners of her eyes. She rubbed them with the back of her hands, if Fenarel caught her crying he'd never stop teasing her. But at the sight of the blood on her knee it suddenly started hurting, she could feel the sting of the painful throbbing.

She heard leaves rustling and swiftly wiped her face, holding her breath to keep from sniffling. Fenarel would tell everyone in camp that she had been caught crying, and she would never hear the end of it. But as the bushes were pushed aside she saw that it wasn't Fenarel who found her; it was Tamlen. His blue eyes were wide and he knelt down in front of her. "What happened?" he asked, though she could swear he was biting back laughter. "Did you fall?"

Ashara lifted up her chin. "No," she said defensively. Tamlen was her best friend, had been her best friend since they were really little. He was only a year older than her and though they each spent their days training for different paths, he trained with hahren Tasar while she trained with the Keeper, whenever they had free time they spent it playing jokes on the people in camp, or scavenging through the forest, usually accompanied by Fenarel. There was very little that she didn't share with Tamlen, she found it easier to talk to him than the girls around camp. But that didn't mean she needed to tell him that she had almost been crying.

Of course it didn't matter, Tamlen could see the cut on her knee. He knew she'd never admit that it hurt but she could hardly walk back to camp with her leg bleeding the whole way. He stood up and reached a hand down to her. "Come on, I can carry you back to camp."

Ashara narrowed her eyes at him and defiantly struggled to stand up on her own. "I don't need you to help me," she said arrogantly.

Tamlen stifled a laugh. "I didn't say you needed help." He knew how she was, she never liked to think that anyone was helping her with anything. "But I've seen hunters get hurt while out searching, and they don't mind if someone carries **them** back to camp." When she hesitated he continued. "If you try to walk back to camp by yourself your leg is going to hurt worse and it's going to bleed everywhere." He glanced at her slyly. "You know, wolves are attracted to the smell of blood."

Ashara stiffened and her eyes grew wide. He almost felt guilty at lying to her, but she needed to get back to camp and get the cut checked out before it got worse. She was terrified of wolves, ever since hahren Paivel told them the story of Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf, and how he would sneak up on his unsuspecting prey in the night and whisk them away, never to be heard from again. "Okay," she said nervously, glancing back to make sure there weren't any wolves hiding behind her.

Tamlen pressed his lips together to keep from laughing and turned around so she could climb onto his back. He hooked his hands on the back of her knees, careful to avoid her cut, and she wrapped her arms around his neck to keep herself steady. "You ready?" he asked. She nodded and he started walking back to camp, talking the whole way about how Fenarel was going to wonder where they were, and how he was hungry and couldn't wait for the evening meal.

Ashara listened to him talk, and though she'd never admit it to him, her knee was starting to feel better.

DA:O

The sun was setting and scents from the evening meal drifted to Ashara, Tamlen and Fenarel from their spot by Ashalle's aravel. They had been caught pouring cumin powder in Junar and Meira's drinks. Or rather, they had been caught after the two young hunters in training began coughing and wheezing from the bitter taste of the water. Fenarel had tried to keep a straight face but couldn't, and as soon as he began snickering Ashara and Tamlen had succumbed to laughter themselves. Ashalle had confined the three of them to her aravel until evening meal was ready. As Ashara's adoptive mother, she was used to the girl's innocent looks and Tamlen's smooth words, and didn't believe any of them for a moment when they claimed it was nothing more than an accident.

Fenarel sighed dramatically and leaned against one of the barrels used to store goods. "This is boring, it wasn't **that** big of a deal."

Tamlen couldn't help but smirk. "Did you see the way Meira's eyes started watering and how Junar started sneezing?" He almost doubled over from laughter at the memory.

Ashara lifted her chin. "I told you it would work," she said smugly. Part of the job of Keeper was knowing different ways to heal the Clan. They trained in herbal lore, and learned the many uses for various herbs scattered around the forest. Since the Clan was constantly moving they had access to a wide variety of plants to use. Ashara loved learning the different uses for various herbs, though in all honesty she didn't always use them for **good** purposes.

Tamlen grinned at her but Fenarel sighed heavily and looked around at the Clan bustling about, packing up belongings and getting everything ready for the move. "So we move the Clan tomorrow." He glanced at Ashara. "Did the Keeper tell you where we're going?"

The Keeper was the one who decided when and where the Clan should move. It was their responsibility to maintain the overall health and welfare of the Clan. As one of the mage children, Ashara was in training with Merill to learn the duties of the Keeper; Marethari often told them things she didn't reveal to the rest of the Clan. "She says we're to go north, to the summer clearing near the ocean."

"That will take us a few days, won't it?" Tamlen asked. He glanced smugly at Ashara. "Did you know that Tasar is going to let me and Fenarel try hunting when we get to the next camp place?" His voice lifted in his pride and Fenarel sat up straighter; it was every boy's dream to participate in his first hunt. No one expected a hunter to make his first kill until around thirteen, but they started joining in the hunts as soon as they were able to.

"Really?" Ashara gasped. "I'm sure you both can do it!" Tamlen had confided to her that he wanted to be Chief Hunter one day; she was sure that he could do it, he always paid attention to Tasar's lessons and practiced with his bow more often than anyone else.

"I'm going to give you whatever I catch," he continued. "Then you can use the fur to make a medicine pouch like the one the Keeper has."

Ashara giggled, envisioning how wonderful it would be to have a pouch like Marethari's. The Keeper put all of her healing herbs in it, as well as various stones or amulets that she used in sacred rituals. She kept it with her at all times, saying that the pouch was too important to be out of her sight. "I'll carry it around when I'm made First, and then when I become Keeper every Clan will know that you got it for me!"

Tamlen laughed. "Of course you'll be made First, who else would it be? Merill?" He snickered.

"Don't be mean to her!" Ashara reprimanded crossly. Everyone was always picking on poor Merill, just because she was quiet and didn't join the rest of them in their loud laughter and mischievous adventures. But Ashara studied with Merill almost every day and knew that she was just shy. She just took her studies seriously, and was really very sweet. Ashara got along really well with her.

"But she's so nervous all the time," Fenarel complained. "Always studying, and making us be quiet when hahren Paivel tells stories."

"That's because the Keeper says it's important to learn our history and she wants us to be proud of who we are," Ashara retorted firmly.

"Whatever, you'll definitely be made First instead of her," Tamlen said confidently.

Dalish mages were rare, so when one was born to a Clan on their fifth summer they began training as First, apprentice to the Keeper. If a Clan didn't have a First, when it was time for the arlathvhen, the meeting of all the Dalish Clans that occurred once every ten years, they would get a mage child from a different Clan. It was to ensure that the tradition of Keeper and First continued. Not only was a Keeper basically the leader of a Clan, but they were also responsible for holding all of the ancient history and lore left over from the ancient days of Arlathan. It was a hard job, after the shemlen came and enslaved the elves they lost almost everything.

Their Clan was an extremely rare occurrence; it had birthed two mages: Ashara and Merill. So while they spent their time learning what all Dalish mages learned, they were also in competition for the spot of First. Whichever one was not chosen would be sent to live with another Clan. Ashara was determined to be made First over Merill.

The thought made her nervous, but Tamlen's confidence was always encouraging. She tossed him a grin. "I hope so! When we're old enough to get the vallaslin the Keeper will make her choice." The rite occurred when a child reached fifteen summers; it was their marking of adulthood, what set them apart from the da'len. Each of them chose the god they wanted to represent, and the design of that god was tattooed onto their face. It told the world that they were Dalish, and reminded them to never bow down to shemlen rule.

Fenarel let out a wistful sigh. "I have no idea what design I want when I get my vallaslin," he said.

"I'm going to have Andruil's design," Tamlen said enthusiastically. "All the hunter should have Her design."

As the two of them started bickering over which tattoo they wanted as adults, Ashara tuned out and watched the camp scurry about. Tomorrow they would be moving, traveling to their northern camp. She had gotten used to it; the Clan was always moving from one spot to the next. The Keeper had explained that the Dalish must always move. To stay in one spot was to invite problems with the shemlen. But it didn't seem fair to Ashara. Why should the Dalish move, when all they wanted was to be left alone? What was it about them that made the humans so angry?

She knew from studying their history that one time, so long ago that no one could remember it, the elves had been immortal and lived all across the land. They built glorious cities and even had a home of their own. But the shemlen came and took it all away. They forced all the elves to become slaves, and even after the elves were freed they had lost everything. So now they had to keep moving because the shemlen hated them for being who they were.

Ashara had never seen a shemlen before, but Ashalle had told her that while they looked similar to elves, they were very different. They were big, and had such small ears that they were almost invisible. She said they were often dirty and their faces were red. Even their eyes were small and watery. Hahren Paivel said they were violent and angry, and wouldn't stop at hurting them. He said they still kidnapped elves, and made them into slaves. Ashara shuddered to think of it.

_One day_, she thought firmly to herself. _When I'm made Keeper I'm going to get all of our history back._

* * *

><p><em>Translations:<br>shemlen - humans  
>hahren - elder, used as a sign of respect<br>da'len - little child  
>vallaslin - blood writing; the tattoos that children get to mark their entrance into adulthood. Each design represents a different deity <em>

_First chapter! This story is written to explore Ashara's personality and childhood, a kind of challenge for me to study her more. It also helps me to explore more of the Dalish culture, and will be a sort of companion piece to my other story about Kali, the city elf. Plus, I love coming up with ideas for all the shenanigans Ashara and Tamlen manage to get into. I hope the part about Ashara almost crying makes sense: if you work with children/have children, you know how if they hurt themselves they'll be fine, at least until they see blood. Once a kid sees blood it's over and the tears start pouring out XD_

_Well, I hope you enjoyed the chapter :D ~Seika_


	2. Chapter 2

_Please forgive any mistakes; I don't have a beta for this_

* * *

><p><strong>Sunshine of Life<strong>

It was a day of lessons, and Ashara and Merrill sat before the Keeper, their eyes round as Marethari recited the history of the Creators. It was important for both girls to remember every event or detail of the ancient elves that was known to the Dalish. When they became Keepers of their own Clan, they would be responsible for holding all of the ancient knowledge in their minds, so that the _Elvhenan_ never forgot who they once were.

"Fen'Harel sealed both the Creators and the Forgotten Ones away, so that they should never escape their prisons. His task complete, he hugged himself with glee at his own cunning. It is why our Creators were not able to aid us, when we were slaves to the Tevinter Imperium."

Ashara tried to pay special attention to everything that the Keeper said. In three years, when she had her fifteenth summer and became an adult, the Keeper would decide, between Ashara and Merrill, who would be made First. It felt like a lifetime away, but she was determined to prove herself.

She raised her hand, and the Keeper nodded to her. "But why...?"

"Speak in the ancient tongue, _da'len_," Marethari interrupted. She looked from one girl to the other. "One day, each of you shall be First to a Clan, and it will be your responsibility to know as much of our language as possible." She touched the pouch she wore around her neck, the pouch filled with objects that she never showed to anyone. "When we perform the rituals of Festival Days, or speak to the Creators, we always do so in the ancient tongue. I want to see how much you are learning."

Ashara nodded, and thought for a moment before speaking. "_La'mira Fen'Harel nuvenin amanah ma'en_?" She hesitated as she tried to remember the words. "_Las...sumana sha'isala ira_?"

The Keeper nodded her approval. "Very good." She lifted her eyes to the sky as she contemplated Ashara's questions. "To be honest, we know not why Fen'Harel wished to seal away both the Creators and the Forgotten Ones." She spread her hands. "Perhaps it is because Fen'Harel is simply chaos. Does chaos need a reason for what it does?"

Merrill nervously brushed her short black hair behind her ear. "_Isa Shalasa'en shiralen_?" Unlike Ashara, Merrill had an easy time remembering all of the ancient words.

The Keeper shrugged. "Who can say? The Creators are strong, perhaps They shall one day free Themselves from Their prison. We must be patient, however, for They do not measure days as we do. They are immortal. What is a single day to One who lives forever?" She could see Ashara frowning in thought, and smiled. "You may speak freely now."

Ashara was relieved. She loved learning the ancient tongue, but it was a difficult language to form into sentences. "But, why would Fen'Harel trap both the Creators _and_ the Forgotten Ones? If he _just_ trapped the Creators, wouldn't that cause even more chaos?"

The Keeper sighed. "If there is a reason to his thoughts, we have not yet found it."

"So, the Creators can't hear us anymore?" Merrill asked fearfully. Ashara had to admit that it _was_ a scary thought, to know that the Creators, the ones responsible for making everything in existence, weren't able to watch over Their own people.

"They are still in the Beyond, _da'len_," Marethari replied. "They are able to hear us, but They are powerless to act." She looked at the two girls, and smiled gently at their worried expressions. "Now, we have been studying for hours; you are free for the afternoon. Tomorrow we will spend the day practicing your magic."

The two girls hopped up, and Marethari glanced at Ashara. "Oh, and Ashara?" The girl turned. "I do not wish to hear of you setting Chaya's weaving on fire again. It is not a wise use of your magic, even if you _are_ defending a friend." Ashara struggled to show a repentant face, but she looked at her feet to hide her narrowed eyes. Marethari noticed the look, and her lips twitched. "Try to show a little more restraint next time."

"Yes, Keeper."

She waved Ashara off, and the girl caught up with Merrill, who looked at her nervously. "What did the Keeper say to you?"

Ashara scowled. "Chaya went running to her after I burned her weaving."

Merrill glanced hesitantly back at the Keeper. "Is she mad at you?"

Ashara smiled, and waved a hand dismissively at Merrill. "Stop worrying, she's not mad. All she said was that it was wrong. But that's what Chaya gets for making fun of you."

Merrill glanced at the group of weavers, Chaya among them, who sat gossiping and laughing by one of the fires. Her voice lowered. "I told you it was okay; you didn't have to do that."

Ashara tossed her black hair impatiently. "It is _not_! You're a daughter of the Dalish like the rest of us, and deserve the same treatment."

Merrill's face relaxed a little, and she managed a small smile. "I don't mind it, though."

Ashara remained firm, with all the authority of a twelve year old girl. "Well, you _should_. The others need to learn to respect you. One day you and I will be Firsts; if the Clan doesn't respect you now, they never will." Even though Ashara was determined to be the First of their Clan, if Merrill wasn't chosen she would still be made First of another Clan.

Ashara shaded her eyes, and glanced up towards the sun. They had a few hours until sundown, which meant that Tamlen and Fenarel should be done with their training soon. She turned to Merrill. "Do you want to come to my aravel? Tianna will probably join us there; we're going to have a snack before evening meal."

Merrill lowered her head, and her voice grew quiet. "Yes, I...I'd like to come with you."

Ashara smiled, glad that Merrill agreed to join her. Usually, Merrill sat by herself near her mother's aravel with one of the Keeper's books open in her lap, trying to avoid everyone else around her. The Keeper had requested that Ashara try to do what she could to bring Merrill out of her shell, but she was finding it difficult. Merrill didn't join in with the rest of the children while they played hide and find, or pulled jokes on one another. She didn't laugh easily, or even smile much. But she was a sweet girl, even if the rest of the Clan didn't see it.

A few minutes later, Ashara and Merrill were sitting outside of Ashalle's aravel, happily munching on some fresh strawberries. It was the month of Sunsend, when the sun beat down strongly from the sky, and the forest sang with life. Chief Tasar and his hunters had discovered a large field of strawberry patches while out hunting, and the Clan had been enjoying them ever since. Strawberries were some of Ashara's favorite fruits.

"I hope you're going to share some of those with me!" Ashara looked up to see Tamlen's younger sister, Tianna, staring down at them with her hands on her hips.

Ashara grinned, and held out the small basket of strawberries to the young girl. Tianna grabbed a handful, sat down, and plopped one of them into her mouth. "I'm so glad Chief Tasar found these!" Strawberries were a rare delicacy among the Dalish; since they didn't stay in one place for long, they weren't able to grow any fruits or vegetables of their own. "And he gave you the best ones."

She passed Ashara a sly look, but Ashara just stared at her. "What are you talking about?"

Merrill giggled. "You didn't notice that Chief Tasar delivered this basket of strawberries personally? Everyone else just grabbed their own share."

Ashara frowned, not following. "I don't get it." But it must be something simple if even _Merrill_ noticed.

Tianna rolled her eyes. "He's sweet on Ashalle! How could you not notice that? He brought you the best of the strawberries because he wants Ashalle to notice how nice he is to you."

Ashara gaped at her. "He is?" She glanced at the central fire, where Ashalle sat with her circle of fellow weavers, laughing and gossiping together as they did most days. "Is he...trying to woo her?" She couldn't imagine Chief Tasar, who was so stern and quiet, always sitting by his personal fire, more comfortable with his weapons than the rest of the Clan, developing a crush on Ashalle.

Merrill continued to giggle at the face Ashara made. "I don't know if he's trying to woo her yet, but just think about it! If they mated, he would be your adopted father!"

Ashara frowned. "My _father_ was the Keeper of the Clan. Even if Ashalle mated with Chief Tasar, he would _not _be my father."

Merrill stopped laughing, and an awkward silence settled over the three of them. Tianna cleared her throat. "Well, we still have some time before Tamlen and Fenarel are finished with their training; why don't we study some more of those herbs the Keeper found?"

Ashara nodded, still perturbed. Merrill couldn't know how her words were upsetting, but they still bothered her. Father had died before Ashara could even know his face; she imagined him as strong and kind, a fearless and wise leader of the Clan. She dreamed that he watched her from the Beyond, and tried to picture him nodding with approval every time she learned something new. She liked to think that he looked on her with pride.

Even if Ashalle _did_ mate with someone, he would never take the place of the Father Ashara dreamed about.

oOo

As always, the Keeper was pleased to see them studying the herbs that they would one day use to heal the Clan, and allowed them to look at her basket, as long as they sat near her aravel. She didn't want them accidentally losing anything. Occasionally she would toss in her own comment or remark, but mostly she left the girls to their own; though Ashara knew that Marethari didn't need to watch them to know what they were saying and doing.

Ashara spread the various stems out in front of her, and sorted them into different groups. She was determined to learn all of the herbs that the Brecilian Forest had to offer, whether helpful or poisonous. She always considered it something of a miracle, when she mixed two different plants together and came up with something completely new. It was like alchemy!

Merrill tried to learn them too, because it was essential to their training, but she had a difficult time matching the names to the different plants. Tianna, on the other hand, had a natural ease with them. She might only be ten years old, but she was almost as gifted with them as Ashara was. The girls liked to spend some of their afternoons reciting the names and uses of the different plants, to etch them into their memories.

Ashara looked at the herbs laid out in front of her, and picked up a long stemmed plant with a dusting of light pink flowers on it. "What's this?"

Merrill nibbled on the nail of her thumb, and frowned. Tianna looked almost ready to burst with excitement, and so Ashara looked at her. "Okay Tianna, do you know what it is?"

"Soapwort!"

Ashara nodded. "That's right!" She looked at Merrill, who was visibly disappointed. "Do you remember what it does?"

Merrill thought for a moment. "You can boil it to make a type of soap, and I think you can eat the flowers. Is that right?"

"Yep!" Ashara pointed to the very bottom of the roots. "The Keeper also said that you can use this part to help new mothers, if their milk isn't flowing right."

Merrill shook her head. "How do you remember all of this?"

Ashara shrugged, and lowered her eyes to hide the leap of pride in them. "I don't know; I just like learning them."

The three girls inspected some of the new herbs the Keeper had found, including silverweed, primrose, and some strong smelling pleurisy root. After a while, when the sun began to set and everyone started preparing for the evening meal, Ashara sat back on her heels. "I think that's enough for one day, don't you?" She grinned at her two friends. "I should put these back before it gets too dark to see."

Merrill stood up and floated over to her aravel, probably to try and see if she could read some more before the sun completely set, while Ashara climbed into the Keeper's aravel to put the herbs back, and Tianna waited outside. When Ashara was finished, Tianna laced her hands together behind her back, a sweet smile on her face. "Can you come to my aravel? I want to show you something."

Ashara nodded, and followed the girl to one of the two aravels she shared with Tamlen and their adoptive family. Sad as it was, an unnatural death was not uncommon among the Dalish; while most of the _Elvhenan_ usually died from old age, a number of them were set upon by _shemlen_. It was what had happened to Ashara's father, and Tianna and Tamlen's parents.

When a child lost their parents, it was up to the rest of the Clan to raise them. Ashara had been adopted by Ashalle as a baby, who had been a close friend of her parents. But Tamlen and Tianna had been adopted by Fenarel's parents, and the five of them lived together in two aravels.

Tianna disappeared inside her home, and soon came out clutching something in her small fists. When she opened her hand, Ashara saw that she was holding a little bag.

"What is that?"

Tianna looked somewhat nervous, as she handed the little bag to Ashara. Ashara turned the bag over in her hand, and out fell a little wooden charm in the shape of a bow. She inspected the bow carefully; it was extremely well made, and absolutely beautiful.

"Tianna! This is so pretty! Where did you get it?"

Tianna flushed a bright red, and played with her brown hair. "Master Ilen made it for me."

Ashara felt the smooth wood. "Is this oak?"

The little girl nodded. "I'm going to give it to Tamlen during _Tu'morassan_; do you think he'll like it?"

Ashara beamed at her. "I'm sure he'll love it!" _Tu'morassan_ was the festival day to June, God of the Craft. It was a day to honor the Clan's craftsman, and the hunters who used his crafts, to show how respected they were for all that they did for the Clan. It was also a tradition to give gifts to both groups.

Tianna hopped from one foot to the other eagerly. "Master Ilen said that it'll bring him good luck when he hunts; I want to make it into a necklace for him to wear."

Ashara smiled. "I can help you with that. Ashalle would know how to make it into a beautiful necklace."

Tianna's adorable little face practically lit up. "Really? Thank you!"

oOo

That night, after the evening meal was finished, Ashara sat alone by her aravel. Everyone else was gathered around the fire, listening to _hahren_ Paivel tell stories of the ancient elves, but for once she didn't really feel like joining them.

She couldn't stop thinking about the little charm Tianna had gotten for Tamlen. She wanted to get him something too, but had no idea what to get, or even if it was a good idea. Gifts were generally something given between family members, or two elves who were sweet on each other. Tamlen was practically her best friend, but that was it. They were friends. If she gave him a gift, even for _Tu'morassan_, would he think it was weird?

She frowned, glaring at the ground in front of her. She heard Chief Tasar comment to the Keeper that Tamlen was swiftly becoming one of his most promising students. Everyone in the Clan marveled at his skill with the bow, and how quickly he caught on to the various weapons Tasar trained them in.

But Ashara found Tamlen...confusing. Lately, whenever she was around him she got nervous. She always felt like an idiot when she talked to him, yet she found herself trying to get him to look at her. But at the same time, she went out of her way to avoid him.

She saw the other girls of the Clan; they floated around easily with grace, whereas Ashara always felt like she was tripping over everything. And she was too skinny; some of the other girls had already developed slight curves, and though even Ashara had started wearing a breast band, she felt like she had nothing to cover. There wasn't really anything there. Ashalle told her that all girls felt like that as they grew up, but Ashara dismissed her words. Of course she would say that.

Ashara let out a heavy sigh and pulled her legs up, laying her face against her knees dramatically. Life really was very unfair.

She was so lost in her own dark thoughts that she didn't hear Tamlen approach, until he was standing right beside her. "Ashara, what are you doing over here by yourself?"

She lifted her head and frowned. "I don't feel like listening to Paivel tell stories, that's all."

Tamlen smiled, almost as if he didn't believe her. "Oh, okay then. Do you mind if I sit with you?"

Ashara didn't know what to say, so she settled for shrugging as if she didn't care one way or the other. Tamlen chuckled and sat down next to her; she could smell the heat from the sun still on his hair. They sat in silence for a time, but she quickly grew frustrated and nervous, and cast around for a topic. "Did you know; I've decided which _vallaslin_ I'm going to get when I become an adult."

Tamlen raised his eyebrows. "Which one are you going to get?"

She grinned. "I'm getting the design to Sylaise. I asked the Keeper what she thought, and she said it was a good idea."

"I thought most Keepers got the design to Mythal?"

"Yes, but I've been very fond of Sylaise for years now." She looked at the fires, where everyone was laughing over some story Paivel was telling. "She's the one who taught us about herbs, and the Keeper says I have a gift with them."

"_I'm_ getting the _vallaslin_ to Andruil."

He said it as if it should be a surprise, but Ashara giggled. "Well of course; you're a hunter." Most of the hunters chose Andruil as their patron Goddess, but some decided to choose June.

Tamlen shifted nervously. "Did you know that Chief Tasar asked if I would help him during _Tu'morassan_?"

Ashara looked at him curiously. "Isn't that a good thing?" Only the best hunters participated during the festival; this meant that Tasar wanted to honor Tamlen's skill.

Tamlen wouldn't look at her. "Well, yes, because it means he trusts me. Its just...what if we don't find the right kind of ironbark?"

"I don't think you have to worry about that." Ashara smiled at him. "Tasar knows where the best quality is; that's why we camp here during this month."

The festival to June, which occurred at the end of Sunsend, was celebrated by sending the best hunters into the woods, to find and bring back only the purest of ironbark. It had to be unblemished, with no holes or spots made by bugs, and when they brought it back Master Ilen would stand before the Clan and craft what was called the First Arrow. It was held for almost an entire year, until _Ashadahlen_, the festival of the Forest Women, when the Chief Hunter would use that arrow to shoot a promising buck. If the arrow hit, it was a sign of good luck.

Tamlen smiled down at her; she tried not to look at his blue eyes. "I'm sure you're right. You know more about these festivals than I do." It was the Keeper's job to speak to the Creators during these festivals, to remind Them that the _Elvhenan_ had not forgotten Them.

"Well, until the Keeper decides who will be her First, we don't really participate much."

Tamlen tilted his head. "Are you worried that the Keeper won't choose you?"

Ashara squirmed, and wouldn't look at him. "I..._hope_ she will, but I don't know."

"She will; you're a _much_ better mage than Merrill is." Tamlen smiled at her, and Ashara was sure she felt her heart turn over.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations:<strong>  
>Fen'Harel - The Dread Wolf; also known as The Trickster<br>da'len - child/children  
>La'mira Fen'Harel nuvenin amanah ma'en? - Why would Fen'Harel want to trap Them?<br>Las sumana sha'isala ira? - What did he gain from that?  
>Isa Shalasa'en shiralen? - Will the Creators ever return?<br>Sunsend - 7th month of the year; equal to Solace  
>Tu'morassan - literally: Making of Arrows; Festival day to June, God of the Crafts, who taught the elves how to make weapons from the trees<br>hahren - elder; used as a sign of respect  
>vallaslin - blood writing; the tattoos the Dalish get when they become adults, to honor the Creators and tell the world that they are Dalish; each design represents a different Creator<br>Andruil - Goddess of the Hunt  
>Sylaise - the Hearthkeeper; Goddess who gave the elves fire, and taught them to sing and dance, and how to use the herbs of the forest<br>Ashadahlen - literally: Forest Women; festival held in honor of Andruil, Sylaise, and Ghilan'nain_

___I know I haven't updated this in quite a while, but I haven't abandoned it. I just hit a writer's block with the stories of the Dalish, which is why we jumped from Ashara being eight, to being twelve. In all honesty, most of the events that shaped her into who she is, happened once she started getting older. The part about her feeling nervous with her body is straight out of my own life, when I felt gangly and awkward. My aunt tried to tell me that it was normal, but of course I didn't believe it XD I think it happens to most adolescents growing up._

_Also, I had someone make a comment about Merrill, though I think it might have been on my other story, telling me that Merrill wasn't born in the Sabrae Clan. I figured I'd clear that up here. I'm well aware that in DA, Merrill was adopted into the Sabrae Clan (the Clan your Dalish Warden comes from) b/c they didn't have a mage of their own, but that wouldn't work with Ashara being there. They'd have no reason to bring in another mage when they already had Ashara, but for plot reasons, Merrill still becomes First after Ashara leaves. The only way for that to happen, while still having Ashara know Merrill well, was to have her be born in the same Clan :D_

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed, requested alerts, or are just reading. It means a lot, and I'm sorry to keep you guys waiting for so long. ~Seika_


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